


Alone

by beta_wolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon deaths, Comfort, F/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4193841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beta_wolf/pseuds/beta_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war Hermione is feeling alone and so is George, but perhaps they can be alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

Hermione wandered down to the pond. There was a sense of relief knowing that Voldemort was dead, but many Death Eaters were still at large, and though they had lost their leader, there were still many disappearances and deaths being reported. Her parents were still in Australia, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to find them again. Everyone else seemed to be moving on, though. Ginny and Harry could frequently be found snogging in closets, behind trees and anywhere else they happened across each other. Hermione suspected Mrs Weasley didn’t mind so much after everything else. It seemed silly to enforce rules about when and where they could kiss when two months earlier they all thought they would be dead. Ron frequently went out with Percy to her surprise. They were doing their best to avoid each other after their spur of the moment kiss during the Battle of Hogwarts. She loved Ron and he loved her, but they weren’t in love. It only took about a week for them to figure that out and they had parted ways very amicably, but it was still a bit awkward.

At last the path ended at the pond. She saw George sitting on the end of the dock dangling his feet in the water. She considered leaving and letting him be alone, but changed her mind. He turned at the sound of her feet thumping on the wood, his wand raised. He quickly lowered it when he saw it was just her and mumbled, “Sorry.”

They were all a bit jumpy still, so she didn’t take offence. Instead she sat down beside him without a word. The water lapped quietly against the pillars of the dock and some birds chirped from the trees. It was very peaceful out here away from the noise of the house. She dipped her feet into the water and watched as the ripples expanded across the pond. The water was cool and refreshing on the hot afternoon.

“Did my mother send you?” George asked after a while.

“No,” Hermione said. “I wanted to get away. I didn’t know that you would be here.” George nodded as if it made sense but Hermione felt like she should explain herself more. “Everyone is so cheerful at the house, so I wanted to be alone. But I saw you and…” Hermione stopped as she realized she had just implied that he was not cheerful like the others. This was true, but everyone had been tiptoeing around George’s depression, letting him take his time in his grief.

“It’s like they don’t care he’s gone!” George exploded taking her by surprise. He buried his head in his hands. “Sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione swallowed not sure of what to do, but she couldn’t stand watching this playful boy look so unlike himself. It was heartbreaking. She took her hand and combed his hair with her fingers like her mother did when her father was angry. The memory caused tears to form in her eyes, but she kept stroking.

“They care. Your mother cries all the time, your dad works late, and Percy and Ron come home drunk every weekend. Ginny and Harry are just about drowning in themselves, but they all have each other. I think they have more reason to be happy because everything wasn’t taken from them. Not like how it feels for you,” Hermione said. She hadn’t thought about it that way until then, but she realized that she really didn’t have anything anymore either. Yes, she had her friendship with Harry and Ron, but Harry had Ginny and things were awkward with Ron. All the Weasleys had always made her feel welcome, but she lost her family, education no longer filled her with joy and… she took her hand back from stroking George’s hair and rest it over the scar on her arm. It lay hidden beneath a long shirt. She never wore short sleeves anymore. Despite trying many spells, potions and consulting with professionals, the word was still etched in her arm. It was her best guess that Bellatrix’s blade had some sort of magic on it that made its work irreversible. 

As if reading her mind, George asked, “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

George looked up and met her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like you. Hermione Granger, always with the next great adventure planned.”

“Hermione Granger with no family, no degree and scarred for life,” she retorted. The words were angry but they were quickly followed by tears. She made to stand up, embarrassed for being caught crying, but George grabbed her arm.

“Don’t leave. I won’t judge you for crying. Merlin knows that’s what I do most of the time,” George admitted. Hermione sniffled but let him pull her back down. He didn’t remove his hand from her arm.

“What’s it like?” Hermione asked before she could second guess herself. “With Fred gone?”

“Half of me is missing,” he said. “You can’t function when you’re just a half.”

“I think I understand, in my own way,” she said. “I used to be so rational all the time. But now I have nightmares every night. It’s like I lost that part of myself which knew the difference between real and imagined. It’s not the same, but sometimes I think I don’t know who I am anymore.” Hermione wasn’t sure if he would be offended to her likening her nightmares to his losing his twin, but his hand slid down her arm to hold her hand, so she assumed he mustn’t mind that much. Silence washed over them. Their hands were sweaty, but when she loosened her grip George held her hand tighter.

“You might be right,” George said.

“About what?” Hermione asked.

“Why the others have it easier than us. It’s nice to not be alone.” He turned to look at her. His eyes were full of despair and need. She gripped his hand tighter as she felt her ability to speak drift away. “Hermione?” he asked moving their heads closer together. She didn’t look away or pull away despite that her heart was racing fast, and she felt afraid of what was happening. But then his lips were only a breath away from her and she felt herself leaning in towards him. His mouth was soft and his lips were warm. He kissed her slowly but confidently. His right hand cupped the side of her face as his tongue began to explore the inside of her mouth more freely. It was so unlike the hurried, rough kiss she had with Ron, or the innocent pecks she had shyly shared with Victor.

As he kept kissing her, Hermione felt her confidence grow and she began to respond more to his kisses, swirling her tongue around his and then feeling the inside of his mouth. His hand drifted from her face down to her neck, brushing her hair out of the way. He pulled his mouth away from hers and pressed a trail of kisses from her chin along her jaw and then down her neck. Hermione moaned into him pressing herself against his body. The action surprised her and she pulled away. She could feel herself blushing furiously.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” George said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I –” 

This time Hermione leaned into him and waited for him to complete the kiss. The kiss was faster, more intense than the last one. George pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him. His hands wandered her body freely and hers pulled at his hair, felt the strong muscles of his chest and arms, and stroked his back. She let herself melt into him so that she was no longer aware of the hard wood digging into her knees or the sounds of the pond around them. Her mind didn’t wander to thoughts of what ifs and hows. There was simply George and his body mingling with hers. Soon hands were sneaking under shirts. His hands felt the curve of her waist, stroked down her back, and unclasped her bra. He cupped her and teased her nipple with his thumb. Hermione felt heat gathering inside her as he touched her boldly. She kissed him harder and moaned into his mouth to signal her approval. Then he was tugging at her shirt lifting if off over her head and throwing it onto the dock behind him. His hands rested on her shoulders and then slid down them slowly, until his hand reached her left forearm. Hermione jumped back from him and he too pulled away.

“What?” he asked, trying to look at her arm as she grabbed her balled up shirt and tried to pull it back on to no avail. “Hermione, what is this?” He grabbed her arm gently, so gently that she easily could have pulled it away. He turned it so he could read the ugly scar. “Mudblood. Who did this?”

“Bellatrix Lestrange,” Hermione whispered. “When we were in Malfoy Manor. The blade must have been cursed. Nothing will make it go away.”

George held her arm up and then pressed his mouth to each letter. Hermione felt herself melt at the tenderness of his actions. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. After a moment’s hesitation his arms circled her and held them tightly together. “I don’t know what I want from you, Hermione. I don’t know what I’m capable of giving.”

“I just don’t want to be alone anymore,” Hermione said clinging to him as if he could fill the missing parts of her. “I don’t know more than that that.”

“I don’t want to be alone either,” George whispered into her hair. “But maybe we don’t have to?”

“I’d like that,” Hermione responded. His grip on her tightened and she suspected that he too was hoping she could fill the missing parts of him.


End file.
